


What's hiding underneath? (Love)

by lilija_the_red



Category: HIStory3 - 圈套 | HIStory3: Trap
Genre: Crack Fic, Getting Together, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Slice of Life, post Jack/Tang Yi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 21:01:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18818932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilija_the_red/pseuds/lilija_the_red
Summary: What is the story behind Jack’s gloves?What’s the big mystery hiding underneath?What has it to do with love, regret and Tang Yi?Lets find out.





	What's hiding underneath? (Love)

**Author's Note:**

> kudos to bl-archer for making me come up with this gloriously hilarious thought!

What is the story behind Jack’s gloves? What’s the big mystery hiding underneath?  
What has it to do with love, regret and Tang Yi?

Lets find out.

* * *

 

Sometimes falling in love is grand.

Sometimes falling in love is rooted in the small things.  
  
Sometimes falling in love means joy and heart pain and that wonderful feeling filling you up like butterflies in your belly. But without having to include actual insects in the process.

Sometimes falling love is fast and hard and unbelievably foolish.

Sometimes it’s pain and refusal and tears and then – more pain.

 

And sometimes falling in love is all of the above and worse.  
Like confessing to your crush – your boss of all people! – telling him about undying feelings for him, telling about the power pulsing through you, the light and warmth caused by one particular person.

And then he rejects you.

 

* * *

 

Naturally there’s only solution, of course: Acquiring a device to erase unwanted memories from people’s mind. Obviously.

The plan is easy. Get your hands on the thing. Take it to your crush, delete his memories of your confession. And never speak of it again. N-e-v-e-r.

After that, there’s only one problem left: Your mind is a busy talker. And that little shit just loves reminding you of every tiny embarrassing detail of said confession. Night after night. Day after day.

But. You already own a memory erasing device! Why not use it? Again? This time on yourself.

Eliminate every knowing creature on this earth?

This is the solution. The one thing able to bring peace to your mind again.

But.

How will you be able to keep yourself from just making the same mistake again? You still work for him. You still see **_him_** every day. How to prevent falling again and crush just like you did before?

You need a reminder. Something strong. Something bold and obvious.

 

It may be a dumb choice in the end. But it works.

 

* * *

 

Jack tugs his gloves over his knuckles, safely securing the leather over the inked words, embedded in his skin.

He can’t remember how he got them. He only knows that it was due to his own working. His choice. He had read it in that letter to himself, months ago. Back when he woke up to freshly tattooed knuckles and a memory loss never known to him before; a letter on his bed stand, right next to a pair of fingerless leather gloves.

The words become his little safety net, placed neatly under spiked leather, hidden from unwanted eyes. Jack lets his hands flex once more, feeling the familiar coolness of the leather and grins. The grin still on his lips, he makes his way for the door. Ready to take on the day. Ready to follow his boss’ commands.

But most importantly: Ready to follow his own agenda.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s been a day. Dealing with brother De gets more taxing every day, but his boss has decided the man should stay, so he’ll let it be. He pities the man. At least in moments, when the annoyance isn’t too much. Maybe he could have used a good tattoo artist as well. But that little trick would stay his, his alone.

Jack sighs and slips out of the leather jacket, hanging it over the chair at his desk. He quickly gets rid of the rest of his clothes and only minutes later he finds himself sitting cross legged on his bed; hands still in gloves.

Jack centers himself, taking in a deep breath, counting the seconds he needs until all the air has left his lungs.

And again.

And again.

With practiced ease he slips out of the gloves, puts them aside and stretches his hands in front of him, familiar lines blinking back at him.

He reads them. Slowly. Carefully. He doesn’t need to, actually, for the words had long been ingrained in his brain, but still, he sticks to the habit. Traditions help. That’s why he looks at the black ink and reads.

**_“Don’t fall in love with Tang Yi”_ **

He repeats this mantra. Over and over again, until it becomes the background music of his thoughts and he only breathes.

Jack may not remember how the words got there, but he knows, feels in the depth of his soul, that following the ink’s commands is key to his survival. To keep whatever is left  of his sanity in place. This mantra is what keeps him on track. And working.

So, repeats it a couple more times. Concluding the ritual, he puts out the light and slips under the covers, feeling content that for another day, he did not fail.

And he has not only survived, he thinks to himself, no: his heart has survived as well.

 

* * *

 

 

The past few weeks have been … interesting. Jack has spent the days watching Tang Yi finding himself inching closer and closer to his little police man, which meant for Jack getting to know that Meng Shao Fei’s police buddy: Zhao Zi.

And he must admit: he’s intrigued.

The optimism oozing from every little quip of Zhao Zi, the sheer openness of him to everyone around him, his easy kind of nature… And at the same time his quick thinking, his cunningness, not planned at all, not controlled, but endearing, nevertheless.

Oh yes, he’s intrigued!

And that responsiveness to everything Jack does?

Oh, he doesn’t mind keeping him around even more, not at all!

 

* * *

 

Still, every night before going to sleep, he repeats his mantra.

Traditions die hard, after all. Especially those vital to one’s survival.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s in the morning that he notices.

That he realizes.

_He forgot._

It’s when the morning sun shines through the blenders, crawling inside his bedroom, filling up the space bit after bit. It’s when he wakes up under his covers, cozy and warm – and not alone. The soft snoring next to him, the arms around his waist, the cozy weight of another body sleeping next to him… All of it is filling up his mind, taking up every capacity of brainspace he has. But still: he remembers.

It’s when he reaches out with his hand to pull up the cover more about Zhao Zi’s sleeping frame, it’s then that realizes, looking at his knuckles.

He forgot the mantra.

He forgot to repeat the words.

The words he had been repeating for weeks over weeks.

The words, which were meant to keep him safe and sane.

When Zhao Zi showed up at his room yesterday, when one thing led to another… he just – forgot.

 

Trying to wrap his head around this, Jack waits for the crushing feeling to wash over him. Waits for the uneasiness to take him over, crushing his heart. The familiar wash of guilt.

But nothing happens.

Nothing filling him up, but warmth. Coziness. Content. Peace.

 

It’s then that he realizes, with Zhao Zi wrapped so close around him: he doesn’t need those words anymore.

He’s free from Tang Yi’s powers.

 

Well, Jack thinks, looking down at Zhao Zi’s sleeping face, he may be free from his love for Tang Yi. But he’s not really free for one reason: Zhao Zi is a hugger. And Jack?

Jack is trapped.

 

* * *

 

**\+ Bonus**

 

From then on everything goes great. Amazing even. Jack tries to woo Zhao Zi with food and the man seems very easily charmed and pleased by it. Everything goes smooth.

And yet. Jack worries. How exactly do you explain your boyfriend a tattoo that basically says: “Don’t fall in love with Tang Yi”?”

He had many ideas. Creative ideas on why exactly such a tattoo would make sense.

A lost bet?

Some guy from a rival gang thought himself to be funny?

The tattoo artist actually chose the wrong name?

He also downright considers denying the tattoo’s existence in its whole.

 

But every new idea is worse than the next one. Jack is lost. Could he keep on the gloves forever? Or forever leave the light off. That way Zhao Zi would never have to notice and Jack wouldn’t have to set on an explanation.

But of course, life doesn’t work like this.

It happens one evening at Zhao Zi’s place, when Jack cooks for Zhao Zi. He had picked him up from the station earlier and they walked the short path together. Now, while Zhao Zi takes a shower, Jack would prepare something.

It’s an easy dish really. Some nicer version of ramen. Not instant this time, they are passed that, but close enough. Jack can work knives. Let it be as weapon or a cooking utensil. What he hasn’t suspected is a half naked Zhao Zi running through the kitchen frantically looking for something in the bedroom. Zhao Zi rushes past Jack, Jack looks away from the cutting and – misses the vegetable.

“Shit.”

Jack keeps his voice down but it’s to no use.

The little sound makes Zhao Zi look back and his eyes widen in horror as he sees the blood dripping from Jack’s finger onto the cutting board.

“AH-JACK! YOU ARE BLEEDING!”

Zhao Zi pulls him along with him, all while pushing a paper cloth on the cut. Jack follows, tuning out the pulsing throb in his finger, only concentrating on the worried look on Zhao Zi’s face. It’s cute.

“Don’t worry. It’s just a cut. No need to fret.” Jack says, despite him actually very much enjoying Zhao Zi fretting over him. Shirtless as he is. Jack really enjoys it.

“Wait here, I’ll get a first aid kit!”

Just a moment later and Zhao Zi is in front of him again, kneeling in between his legs, frantically opening the kit. Jack grins at his boyfriend worrying.

He blames it on the view that he doesn’t even realize Zhao Zi popping open the braces on his gloves and slipping them off. It’s only when he looks down catching a glimpse of the black ink that he realizes.

_No!_

He tries to pull back his hand out from Zhao Zi’s grip, but Zhao Zi won’t have it. He turns the hand and he must see the ink, must be able to read it, but no matter how hard Jack looks, Zhao Zi doesn’t react. Instead he simply continues patching him up.

“The bleeding stopped”, Zhao Zi says, still worry visible on his features, as he looks up from where he’s kneeling in front of Jack. “But you probably should still go to the doctor. Just to be sure. They glue it or something.”

Jack marvels at him for a moment, loosing himself a little in his eyes. But he quickly snaps out of it. Rubbing his fingers over the still bare ink. Zhao Zi smiles as he puts away the unused band aids, having pulled out too many in his panic and blubbers on about calling a cab or maybe they could go directly to the gang’s doctor?

“You’re not gonna say anything?” Jack can’t help it. He needs to push.

Zhao Zi just looks up at him, confusion written clearly on his face.

Jack rolls his eyes. “The tattoo?”

“Oh!”, Zhao Zi exclaims, eyes widening.

Ah, here we go! Jack thinks.

But Zhao Zi only shrugs. “I get it, kinda. Tang Yi can be … overwhelming, you know? In that hot way.”

Jack only stares at him, unbelieving.

Zhao Zi laughs apparently embarrassed, scratching his neck. “You know… having a little safety reminder? Might not be too bad!” Then Zhao Zi frowns and asks: “But how can the words help you, if you always hide them underneath the gloves?”

Jack can’t help but laugh.

He shakes his head, still grinning and grabs onto Zhao Zi’s neck, carefully pulling until Zhao Zi is in his space and he can just kiss him.

How he could have become so lucky to be granted with such a gem of a man? Jack has no idea. But he won’t question it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> First I said: no fanfiction for just anohter new fandom!  
> Then I said: okay, but only quick stuff on tumblr.  
> Now: look, I don't know anymore. I'm a pushover for myself 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!  
> You can find me as @redfeathered.tumblr.com


End file.
